


hold my heart, it's beating for you anyway

by xinchun (neomin)



Category: Nine Percent, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, there are some other banana trainees but they're all really minor so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 19:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neomin/pseuds/xinchun
Summary: Yanjun likes holding Zhangjing's hand a lot.





	hold my heart, it's beating for you anyway

 

The first time it happened, it was on the day of a holiday.

The whole mall was crowded. Zhangjing wanted to go home already. They hadn’t been in the mall for a whole ten minutes yet he’d already lost count of how many people have bumped into or pushed him; there was the usual busy cacophony of sounds, except it was ten times worse; it felt hot - the air conditioners that had made the whole area cool weren’t enough due to the sheer amount of people in the building; and, the worst of them all – was that he could barely see a thing besides the person in front of him’s back.

He doesn’t want to let himself think negatively about his height, because, really, what’s the point of complaining about something you won’t be able to change? At that exact moment, however, he really wished he was taller because having to stare at a person’s back and having to rely on your friends beside you to lead the way was no fun at all.

Someone bumped into him again for the nth time already, so he didn’t bother to look until something slithered its way down his arm. Zhangjing’s turned his head to its direction and was met with a familiar shoulder to his face – Yanjun’s. Yanjun’s hand grabbed Zhangjing’s and interlocked their fingers and as much as the latter hated to admit it to himself, he really liked how their hands fit together perfectly.

The older didn’t know if he’s as red as he felt he is, so turned away from the younger and just looks straight in front, his head slightly lowered. “Why are you holding my hand?” he managed to ask without stuttering. His tone sounded like he didn’t want it, but his hand that stayed in place said otherwise, accepting.

“You’re short,” Yanjun deadpanned and the other glared at him sideways, only ever so slightly turning his head. “You might get lost.”

Zhangjing would say something cheesy like ‘I’m already lost in your eyes,’ but he’s no Yanjun – he’s not the type to joke and flirt around. “Why don’t you hold Chaoze’s?” he said instead, eliciting a glance from said person at the mention of his name, but he quickly resumed to talking with Maotong, leaving the two to their conversation. “He’s shorter than me, you know.”

“Yeah, by a centimetre,” Yanjun scoffed and it’s Zhangjing’s turn to pout. “And he can manage,”

The sound of their shoes’ heels clicking on the tiled floor are lost – either in the sea of the sound of a thousand other footsteps of those around them, or the sound of their heartbeats thumping in their ears.

               

The second time was at the same mall, which was still crowded because of a certain popular store being on the final day of their inventory sale – it wasn’t as crowded as before that now, they could at least walk freely without looking like they’re caught in the middle of a stampede. So they were just walking - now being able to swing their arms with each step, having space – when Yanjun very casually just slipped his hand in Zhangjing’s just like the previous time.

Zhangjing didn’t trust himself to talk so he just looked at Yanjun with eyebrows raised, hoping for the best which was that his face retained its natural shade, and not turned red.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yanjun asks nonchalantly, very like himself. “Do you want me to hold something else instead?”

That was the moment Zhangjing’s eyes widened a bit and all of the blood in his face rushing to his cheeks. Looking away and somehow miraculously as he couldn’t look at what he was aiming for, he punched Yanjun right in the arm with his free hand while still keeping their locked hands together, swaying as they walked.

“Ah,” Yanjun winced and Zhangjing almost worried he hurt him until the former pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and suddenly Zhangjing wanted to punch him again just to wipe that pout off his face. “I was talking about your heart.”

 _‘You already have it, dummy,’_ he thought to himself.

 

The third time happened one night when the boys - all nine of them – went on a road trip. It was already eleven post meridiem when they were still an hour away from their home. Besides Honglin who was driving, and Yanjun and Zhangjing, everyone else had fallen asleep – including Dinghao who sat with the two at the seat farthest at the back of the van and had rested his head on Zhangjing’s shoulders, leaning sideward.

The air conditioner was turned on its lowest level but Zhangjing still felt cold. Every now and then he would close his tired eyes to try to sleep but alas, he could only stay awake, ending up suffering, shivering from the cold.

“It’s really cold,” Yanjun said in a whisper, the dimness in the van and outside of it hiding whatever expression he might have had. Zhanghing’s hand was rested on the seat, his palm flat facing downwards. “Can I?” Yanjun asked for permission, brushing the top of other’s hand gently with the tip of his fingers.

“This is the first time you asked for permission,”

Yanjun’s hand was warm. Zhangjing’s heart was about to burst.

It was almost romantic, holding hands and Yanjun bugging Zhangjing to peek out the window to look at the stars – he had to scoot over since he was in the middle, a fair distance from the window, their hands resting on Yanjun’s lap. He also told a few pick-up lines like ‘Are you a star? Because I can’t stop orbiting around you,’ and ‘Are you a black hole? Because I can’t escape,’ which earned him a cold stare from the other who wouldn’t admit that it actually made him feel things.

The older eventually fell asleep, head resting on Yanjun’s shoulder just like how Dinghao’s head was resting on his arm now but Yanjun couldn’t sleep – not with Zhangjing being so close to him, not to mention their hands are still held together, the hair on top of Zhangjing’s hair tickling his neck and how ethereal Zhangjing looked even with the very limited lighting from the pale moonlight outside and the occasional headlights from passing vehicles on the road.

He looked out the window once more. Smiling at him from above was Ursa Major – told to be made from the nymph Zeus fell in love with.

 

Eventually, Yanjun ran out of excuses, and he really wanted to hold Zhangjing’s hand right then and there.

They were just at home, both of them sitting on the couch not talking to each other, holding their phones just like any other person in their generation. Zhangjing, sitting on Yanjun’s left, was holding his phone with his left hand, his pinky below, his index finger propped on the side, the other two fingers on the back for support and his thumb scrolling on the screen. In other words, his right hand was free and a few inches away from Yanjun’s left hand.

There was the familiar tone you get when receiving a text message, and Zhangjing wished he held the phone firmer when he got a text from Yanjun and dropped his phone, fortunately¸on his lap.

A text box appeared on the top screen of Zhangjing’s phone. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared but he could clearly see the short text which read ‘hey can I hold ur hand’ from contact name: Yanjun with a heart emoji, and he wonders how exactly the younger can look so expressionless when he was typing the message a few seconds ago. “So, do you just like holding my hand?” asked Zhangjing. There was no reason for the other to hold his hand, they’re not in a public place where one of them could lose the other and neither was it cold. He already used the hand cramps excuse one time and they weren’t watching a scary movie where he could pretend to be scared.

A few seconds of silence followed after.

“No,” he just said, an expression finally appearing on his face. “Not ‘just’.” He smiled at the other, his dimples showing. “I like you,”

And so now, one could say Yanjun wouldn’t need to ask for permission every time anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> this isnt proofread so tell me if there r any errors also its?? past midnight ripthis was rly bad rip and this was rly self indulgent ngl . this ship? my lifeline, and if u haven't noticed i just rly love their height difference it's the actual cutest
> 
> n e ways u can find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/xinchuwun) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/azorachin) :>
> 
> ok goodnight


End file.
